Hassan lay on the floor on a mat between their cots.

He looked up at me.

I did not dare speak, but I smiled at him as friendly as I knew how and made a gesture I hoped he would interpret as an invitation to come and attach himself to our party.

Then I hurried on, for Coutlass was coming back with a bottle of wine in each hand.
I was five minutes in our bedroom.

In a minute I knew what had happened.